


Turning Point

by wyse_ink



Category: Psycho-Pass
Genre: Character Study, Complicated Relationships, F/M, One Shot, Post-Canon, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-02
Updated: 2016-05-02
Packaged: 2018-06-05 21:38:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6724540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wyse_ink/pseuds/wyse_ink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One year after Sibyl's downfall, Akane tracks down the man she once knew.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Turning Point

        Secluded. That was the first word that came to mind as she approached the small bungalow that sat on the side of the hill. Trees surrounded it on three of its four sides, and the fourth, which she assumed overlooked the lower ground, was obscured from her view. Though she couldn't see them from her location, she could hear the sound of waves crashing against the shore. Akane started toward the house. It was clear that recent repairs had been made: parts of the siding was newer than the rest of the house and didn’t quite match, and there was a makeshift work station that had been set up out front. The front steps creaked with every step as she approached the door and knocked. Once, twice, with a long pause in between. She listened for shuffling inside. Nothing.  
        “Losing your touch, Inspector?”  
        It was unnerving how quietly he moved, she thought as she turned to face him. He wore no expression as he set down the bucket and supplies he’d been carrying. She took a slow step toward him.  
        “I could say the same,” she said, a small, sad smile creeping across her face. It’d been a year since she’d last seen him: barely able to stand, bruised, battered, and cut almost beyond recognition. It was certainly a very different sight than the man who stood before her now with an easy stance and the beginnings of a five o’clock shadow.  
        She turned back toward the bungalow. “Not bad for a hiding place.”  
        “Could be worse,” he said, passing her and climbing the steps to the front porch. Producing an old-fashioned key, he unlocked the door and stepped inside. Akane followed.  
        The inside was bigger than she’d expected. It was open, with a large living area and simple furniture. A single shelf had been built along one of the walls, lined with his small collection of books he’d acquired over the years. Old, wooden stairs led up to a loft, and through the sliding back doors, she could make out what appeared to be either a deck or balcony. She suspected he hadn’t been staying here long in comparison to the amount of work he’d done to improve the place. He passed by her and went into the small kitchen area to start some tea. She crossed the room to the back door and pulled the old, sheer curtain aside.  
        The view was incredible. Now, she could clearly see the deck that overlooked a short downward slope of trees and the beach. The clear, blue water from the ocean was so calm it looked more like a finely-spun silk, gently waving in the breeze. It was a very different scene than the one she was used to, all concrete and skyscrapers as far as the eye could see. It didn’t seem real.  
        “Is barley tea okay?” his voice came from the kitchen, followed by a short series of clanks.  
        “Yes, thank you.” The corners of her mouth twitched upward at the simplicity of the question. It’d been a long time since they’d had a drink of any kind, and the last time hadn’t been under the best of circumstances. They’d been on edge, whether unable or unwilling to move past their missions she’d never been sure. She supposed it’d been for the best.  
        The quiet footsteps behind her made her turn. He reached around and opened the door, letting the salty air rush in. He nodded at her once and she stepped out onto the deck. There was a small table with an ash tray and two chairs, all of which looked like had only recently been added. Like the rest of the place, the awning above had been repaired, likely by his hand. She crossed over to the wooden railing and rested her hands against it. The entirety was picturesque, the deep blue of the ocean meeting the tans and greens, all captured into one perfect image. It looked like something out of a painting, she decided, maybe one of the old-fashioned kinds like Masaoka would have liked or the ones described in some of Professor Saiga’s books.  
       “There’s still a long way to go,” he said, interrupting her thoughts. “The floor needs replacing and the stairs need fixed, but it's in better condition than I'd initially thought it was. Hard to believe places like this are still standing.”  
        She glanced over her shoulder at him curiously. “So you’re planning to stay here?”  
       He shrugged and reached into his pocket, producing a cigarette and a lighter. He gave it a few flicks and it came to life. “For a while.” Akane turned again. She’d expected as much. Kogami never did stay in one place very long, and even with his freedom, she didn’t foresee it changing anytime soon. Still, it seemed like a lot of work to put into a place just to stay for a short time.  
She heard him step back inside and pour some tea. After a moment, he returned with a cup in hand and set it on the table. Steam rose from its surface and the aroma filled the air. She sat in one of the chairs and took a sip. He leaned against the railing and took a drag on his cigarette. His eyes seemed to wander for a bit, as if he were lost in thought.  
        “Have things quieted down?” he asked finally.  
        She nodded. “It’s still a bit of a mess, but they--we--are making good progress.”  
        He nodded exhaled slowly. “That’s good to hear. And the others?”  
        “They’re doing well. We’ve been busier than usual, but I think everyone’s glad for it. The newcomers are adapting quickly.”  
        “Gino?”  
        She'd expected that. Of all the members of her team, Ginoza seemed to be thriving most under the new justice system. With his experience as both an inspector and enforcer, he was able to make good decisions and improvise quickly at his own discretion. He’d also been making good use of his free time. As she expressed this, she couldn’t suppress the small smile that crept across her face again as she added the last bit. “He’s met someone.”  
        She watched as a smirk crossed Kogami’s face. “That’s good.” They fell into silence for a bit, Akane taking in the sounds around them. It was a world away from the sounds of cars, sirens, and crowds that she was so used to. As far as she knew, there was no one here other than them. Yet she could tell by the lightness of the skin under his eyes and his relaxed posture that he was content in his seclusion.  
        She took another sip of tea. It was almost strange seeing the former enforcer in such a calm setting. The suit and loose tie she'd once been used to had been replaced by a plain, dark t-shirt and jeans. Gone were the dog tags and combat boots she'd never thought suited him. He looked as though he’d lost a little weight since she’d last seen him, but only a little, the fabric of his shirt still hinting at his solid form underneath. Feeling a slight prickle of heat threatening to rise to her cheeks, she turned her focus back to the water. “Do you ever...” her voice faded as she realized what she’d been about to ask. She stared into the teacup as he put his cigarette out in the ash tray and sat down.  
        “Think about what would’ve happened if I hadn’t killed him?” Even though he seemed unbothered by the question, she remained quiet. When she didn’t answer, he sighed. “Yeah, I have.” He paused for a minute. “You never did believe it was right.”  
        “I understand why you did.” She turned to him and he watched her curiously. “He was a dangerous man with even worse intentions.”  
        “Were we so different?”  
        She sighed. “You know you were. More importantly, you _are_ different. You never had the desire to manipulate and control others.”  
        “You sound so certain.”  
        “Am I wrong?” Her eyes bored into his, searching, challenging. She knew she was right. Whether or not he realized it himself, he and Makishima had never followed the same path. While there were times when those paths had been parallel to each other, they’d never stayed that way for long. He was quiet for a moment.  
        “You haven’t changed,” he said finally.  
        “Neither have you.” _Maybe that’s why._ As they fell into silence, she wondered if that was a good thing. A different question was creeping into her mind, one that had threatened to surface for a long time, but she pushed it aside. Instead, she dared herself another.  
        “You told me once that you’d hoped we could meet again as ordinary people,” she began slowly. In her peripheral vision, she saw him turn to her again. Even at the obscured angle, she could see the way he eyed her carefully. It was the same look he’d given her before, she realized, remembering that night on the balcony when he’d confessed his fear. He’d trained his eyes on her, their familiar, gunmetal blue studying her, listening, hanging on her every word. She’d almost forgotten how they looked and how it felt. With a sigh, she continued. “Did you mean it?”  
        “I did.” He studied her for a bit longer before turning away. “I guess I didn’t know what ordinary was then.” There was something in his tone that told her not to persist further. She stared out over the water, unable to shake the feeling that despite what she saw on the surface, he was still retreating back into the abyss.

***

        It wasn’t until the sun had set that Akane realized the time. She stood and smoothed her skirt, setting aside the paperback novel she’d been thumbing through. She’d selected it at random, drawn to the unmarked grey cover and frayed binding. He didn’t say a word as she crossed the room to replace it, but she could feel him thinking. Carefully, she slid the book back onto the shelf and turned. Kogami had become increasingly distant as the day had gone on, and there was a part of her that wondered her question had been the cause. She wondered if in these moments he was looking back--allowing himself once again to be caught in his bleak retrospect, distant, cool, and distracted from all but whatever maelstrom such a thing produced.  
        A hound without prey. Yet now, he wasn’t a hound anymore at all. While he seemed content in his new, quiet life, there were remnants of the toll that those days had taken on him. She glanced around the room. That, she suspected, was the reason he’d spent so much time fixing this place, even if he had no intention to stay. It was just another purpose, one that passed by just as he did, only to fade again. An ache she couldn’t describe began to form in her chest, and she stepped outside for some fresh air. Even at night, the air was saturated and warm. Yet it wasn’t at all overbearing--instead, it was pleasant, the kind of weather that could only be found this close to the ocean. She breathed it in, committing it to memory for the next time the city grew too stifling.  
        A city she knew she should be returning to as soon as possible.  
        “You have a choice, you know,” she told him as she heard him join her. He stayed out of view. She sighed as her own words echoed in her ears and understanding sank in. More quietly, barely above a whisper, she added “Is that what scares you?” For a moment, he didn’t answer, and she didn’t dare turn back to him.

        “It’s hard to come back to a life you never lived.”  
        “But you did.”  
        “No,” he said sharply. “I didn’t.” There was something in his tone that struck her, and she turned to him.  
        “Is that what you tell yourself?” she asked. “That because your decisions didn’t have the best outcomes it was all for nothing?” Even in the dark, she could see his brow furrowing. She could tell he was searching for a response, but no matter what he said, she knew what the nature of it would be. The realization caused her eyes to burn, and she continued before he could. “If that’s just your way to sacrifice everything for nothing, then I’ve been wrong about you from the start.”  
        His eyes darkened. “You know why.” Akane knew she’d hit a nerve, but she continued.  
        “Maybe, but I’m not sure you do.” The ache in her chest was worsening, whether from anger or sadness or something else entirely, she didn’t know. It was all part of this cycle they’d been on since the day she’d first pulled the trigger. Always pushing or pulling, neither of them giving or taking. Always connected by fate. Always on the same path, yet always pulling away before they reached its end. She wished she had the luxury of not knowing why. But at some point, and she wasn’t sure exactly when, that blissful ignorance had disappeared along with him. She knew he’d seen it too, just like she saw it now, in his hurt, in the way his eyes softened, either because of or despite it.  
        “Is this just how it’s going to be?” she asked quietly, knowing she didn’t have to explain what she meant--it was the same question that formed in the back of her mind with every reunion, every time one of them left again. That was what it always had been: always going separate ways, no matter how common their goal. When he didn’t answer, she sighed. “I guessed as much.” A pang of frustration was forming now in the pit of her stomach, irrational though it was.  
        “What do you want me to say?” he asked evenly.  
        “Something,” she said. _Anything_ , she added in her mind. “Do you think it’s unfair of me to ask?”  
        “No.”  
        She sighed. “Then tell me.”  
        He paused. “What if you don’t like my answer?” Her stomach was twisting into knots, and she wondered if she’d finally pushed too far. She dared herself to look him in the eye then, immediately wishing she hadn’t. They were eyes she knew too well, boring into her, pools of steely blue, piercing through every fiber of her being in a way she couldn’t identify. Her pulse quickened at the sight, at his presence, at the humid air she could now only describe as suffocating, and the waves crashing as the tide rushed onto the shore below.  
        “It doesn’t matter what I think,” she replied quietly.  
        “It does.” His voice was tinged with irritation, starting to take a step toward her only to stop in his own tracks. He was fighting with himself. It was a look she knew all too well. It was the same expression he’d worn in the long days of hunting Makishima. It was the same he’d worn that night in Shamballa, when he’d confided in her. But if he had fallen into the abyss, he’d always managed to find her on the other side.  
        _Come catch me again._  
        She had. She’d set a new game of chance and choice, and the next move was his.  
        Maybe that was why she expected him to walk away. To pass by her with a solemn word, fading into the world he’d made for himself. Instead, he closed the distance between them. He pressed his lips against hers roughly, his hand on the back of her neck locking her into place. She could feel her pulse quickening, her skin tingling where his hand rested. Gingerly, she placed her trembling hands on either side of his neck, letting her thumbs trace the skin of his lower jawline as if to remind both of them that all of it was over. He wasn’t a fugitive and she wasn’t his enemy. That they never had been the latter anyway. His hands slid down her back, pulling her against him when they reached its curve. Instinctively she pressed against him, shocked by the trail of heat his hands left down the edges of her spine. Along and through the fabric of her skirt.  
        “Don’t-” she started as she thought she felt him start to pull away, but instead she felt his fingers on her zipper. She exhaled shakily as the fabric loosened around her before falling to the floor around her ankles. The warm air met her newly exposed skin in a way that made her shiver, a reaction that was only amplified by the feeling of the calloused fingers he ran against it.  
         Not once had she ever felt afraid of him: not even when he’d set his sights on prey with a look in his eyes that might’ve made anyone else’s hair stand on end. Not even when she’d fought him. Yet only now did she realize that she should have been, not for fear of harm, but just how deeply the effect he had on her ran. An effect she only now understood the darkest nature of as his lips parted hers.  
        For the first time since she could remember, Akane felt her control begin to crumble. She wondered if he too felt his will dwindling, as if they were two people who’d never been anything other than what they were now, and never been anything but what they were becoming. Her face burned as the reality of it all began to sink in. It was carnal and exhilarating, far from the world of theory and debate they’d always indulged in before and farther still from the game of life and death they'd once become trapped in. This was something else entirely--something that she knew was long overdue. She could feel it in the way he kissed her, from her lips to the curves and hollow of her neck. In the way he peeled her shirt over her head and helped her as she relieved him of his. Her fingers tangled in his hair as his curled underneath the strap of her bra and pulled it from her shoulder, only to replace it with a slow kiss that left her skin aflame.  
        She knew they’d crossed a line, far beyond any point they could ever go back to. And she was glad for it--that after all that had happened, they still could. He wrapped one arm around her waist and lifted her, running his calloused fingers along the back of her thigh as her legs closed around his waist. Lightheadedness threatened to overtake her as he carried her inside, with nothing but her own deafening pulse and feeling of his breath on her neck to ground her.  
        The bed was soft beneath her. She sank into it as he followed, embraced by the light cotton sheets and the lingering scents of smoke and cologne she could only associate with him. It was all so contradictory--the faint, soft scents and the hardness of his body. And she was painfully aware of the latter--his muscles tensing against her as he unlocked her fingers from behind his neck. And when he pinned her, pushing her wrists above her so that her fingers touched the cold rails of the headboard, she couldn’t contain the staccato of her breath. The cold metal send a chill through her, from her fingertips and down her spine. His hot breath trailed against her neck, lowering slowly to the tender hollow of her collarbone.  
        There were things she’d never dared to imagine, no matter how clear her hue had remained. Acceptance for all as it was had always been what she accounted for her clarity. Accepting, adapting, and pushing wants aside had allowed her to keep her focus-- her mind--on a path that’d been deemed right. Healthy. For a long time, she’d believed it was. But with candidness of his touch, she wasn’t so sure. It was one thing to want, letting desire twist and contort itself into something darker. Yet it was two sides of the same coin, with the lines between want and need. And the latter was building and burning within her, only worsening as he released her arms, tracing the tender skin of her arms, then underneath her to relieve her of the fabric that still remained. The sudden exposure sent a chill through her and she exhaled shakily.  
        “Koga-” she began, her voice fading into their labored breaths. No, she thought as he kissed her roughly. He hadn’t been that to her in a while now. With what force she could muster, she pressed her hands against his shoulders. “Shinya.”  
        He understood. She remained frozen as he released her, feeling his fingers bend underneath the thin fabric that hugged her hips and peel it away. She wondered if he could feel her pulse beating beneath him as much as she could feel his, hers nearly stopping as he removed the last of his own confines.  
        The feeling that followed shocked her. Her fingernails dug into his skin deeper with the more she took, unable to suppress the soft whimper that escaped her lips as he began to move. He was being careful, and the notion that it was for her sake made her grit her teeth. She pulled him back to her. Kissed him more fiercely.  
        She fell into his rhythm, arching her back and inhaling sharply as a wave of energy shot through her. Whatever discomfort she’d initially felt was fading, replaced by something strange and alien that she couldn’t describe. A strange numbness flooded through her, one that somehow left her senses heightened. Her thighs burned against his sides as he grew more vehement, clearly spurred by her response, his breath shortening to quick, heated pants against her.  
        _You told me once that you hoped we could meet again as ordinary people. Did you mean it?_  
        _I did._  
        _And now?_  
        The jolt that shot through her shattered her memory. Knowing she was reaching her height, she bit her lip, unable to suppress her small cry as her body began to stiffen.  
        “Akane.” It was more of a growl than a murmur against the dampened skin of her neck, desperate and frustrated and unmistakably him. He shifted, the newfound depth causing her to lurch violently. It was becoming increasingly difficult to match his movement with what little strength she had left. And he was relentless, his nearness seeming to have the opposite effect that hers did, leaving her flushed and trembling and weak.  
        She gasped when the tremor tore through her. She clung desperately to him as it overtook her, fingers tangling in his messy, dampened hair. He followed, collapsing over her. Slowly--tentatively--she stroked the back of his neck. Their chests rose and fell together as they breathed, his lips brushing her jawline. Flushed and exhausted, she stared at the ceiling, reveling in the tender trail of kisses he left along her skin. After a moment, he rolled off of her and caught his breath. Through the open door, she could hear the wind passing through the leaves of the trees and the waves meeting the shore in the distance, enclosing them in a world that belonged to no one, yet was entirely theirs. The sound of a lighter being flicked filled the dark room, followed by the faint glow of a flame. For the first time, it didn’t bring back memories. Maybe neither of them would ever know what it was to be truly ordinary, but as she breathed in the haze, she wondered if it might be something like this.

**Author's Note:**

> Also posted on Tumblr at http://psychosibyl.tumblr.com/post/143751829402/turning-point.
> 
> Disclaimer and Notice: I do not own Psycho-Pass or its characters. All fan fiction works are non-profit and written and strictly for entertainment and/or character study purposes.
> 
> DO NOT PLAGIARIZE, RE-POST, ALTER, OR SUBMIT ANY PART OF THESE WORKS TO OTHER SITES, BLOGS, CONTESTS, OR PROFESSIONAL ESTABLISHMENTS.


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